


These Are the Voyages

by AgentStannerShipper



Category: Kingsman (Movies), Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Alien Character(s), F/F, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Star Trek AU, Tension, of the pg variety, on all parts except percilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:28:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21948091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentStannerShipper/pseuds/AgentStannerShipper
Summary: It's been a week since Captain Harry Hart and his Starfleet crew were stranded in the Delta quadrant with only a Maquis crew for company. They're going to have to make the best of it.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin, James | Lancelot/Percival (Kingsman), Olivia March | Vivian/Roxy Morton | Lancelot
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24
Collections: 2019 Kingsman Stocking Stuffers





	These Are the Voyages

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MHMoony](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MHMoony/gifts), [felixnavidad_02](https://archiveofourown.org/users/felixnavidad_02/gifts).



> For Meggsy and Felix (and let's be honest, a little bit for me), who encouraged my Star Trek AU craving ways. Voyager-era because that's apparently the favorite (I think I'd have to claim Next Gen for myself). Hope you guys like it!

_Captain’s Log – Stardate 48332.1_

_It has been a week since_ Kingsman _and the Maquis ship were stranded in the Delta quadrant, and only two days of attempting to make integration of the two crews successful. Although I am aware these things take time, I am not inclined to be particularly patient. Percival, my second and tactical officer, might call this a failing, and he would be right, but I cannot help feeling that the sooner this transition takes hold, the better._

_I had hoped, given the Starfleet experience of my now-commander, the former Maquis captain who insists on being referred to as Merlin, that he might be willing to assist me in making the transition as smooth as possible. So far, any such hopes have been proven ill-founded._

Harry rubbed his forehead and sat back in his chair. “Computer, end log.” The terminal beeped as it complied, and he sighed. He’d heard about Merlin through the Academy, years ago. A computer genius and for years a respected professor of the engineering track, it had come as quite a shock to everyone when he had resigned his commission in order to join the Maquis in fighting the border skirmishes against the Cardassians. Harry had never met the man, although he’d seen him occasionally across the room at various Starfleet functions, but now that they were working in close quarters, he could understand. Merlin might have projected an air of calm professionalism, but there was an indignant streak of righteousness buried beneath it. Harry had considered joining the Maquis himself, briefly, but he hadn’t done it out of any sense of justice. If he was being honest, Starfleet’s rules and regulations chafed at him as often as not, and it had been tempting to consider getting away from it all. Which, he supposed, in some ways made Merlin a better man than him.

It didn’t matter. Lost in space, without anyway to contact home, Starfleet regulations were all Harry had. It was all his crew had. And dammit if he wasn’t going to stick to them.

His door chimed, and he looked up. “Come in.”

It slid open to reveal Percival and Eggsy. The latter bounded into his office without heed, taking a seat on the other side of Harry’s desk and shooting him a broad grin. The former hesitated a moment, and then strode in with determination, coming to a halt at parade rest, his blank face and dark eyes inscrutable beneath his bowl cut. Harry had worked with the Vulcan for years, but he still found Percival difficult to read. Not like Eggsy. Harry had only known the Betazoid ensign for a month or two, but it was never all that difficult to guess how he was feeling. Curious, considering it was supposed to be the other way around.

“Sorry to disturb you, Captain,” Percival began, “but there has been an incident in engineering.”

Harry closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and then opened them again. “What sort of incident?”

“One of the Maquis, Crewman Gazelle, got into an argument with one of our engineers. It…escalated.”

“Is anyone hurt?”

“Minor bruises. Both parties were sent to sickbay, to be dealt with at your earliest convenience.”

Right. He’d have to deal with them. Being captain could be damn inconvenient at times. He touched his communicator. “Hart to Merlin.”

“Merlin here.”

“Meet me in sickbay, please.”

“Aye, sir.”

Harry nodded and stood. He hesitated, looking between the two men in his office. “I’ll handle it from here. You’re dismissed.” Percival gave a sharp nod, but neither he nor Eggsy moved. “Unless there was anything else?”

“Permission to accompany you to sickbay, sir,” Percival requested. “Gazelle may prove hostile.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to manage.” He gave them both a significant look. “I believe you’re needed on the bridge.”

“Yes, sir.” Percival nodded again and left without further argument. Eggsy looked crestfallen for a moment, and then slunk after him, casting a sulky, pleading look over his shoulder at Harry until the door slid shut behind him. Harry pressed his lips together in a tight line. He gave his crewmen a few second’s head start to get out of his way, and then headed in the direction of sickbay.

A few decks down, Merlin joined him in the turbolift, tilting his chin in deference. “Captain.”

“Are you aware of what happened?”

“I heard there was a bit of a fight.”

Harry gave him a sidelong glance. Merlin wasn’t looking at him, choosing instead to stare at the turbolift wall. He might have been human, but for all the expression on his face he was as unreadable as a Vulcan. Harry pushed a bit farther, “Anything else?”

“No. Sir.” The last bit was tacked on, not quite sarcastic, but far from respectful. They might have been in matching command-red uniforms, but it was clear that Merlin wasn’t quite ready to view them as allies.

Harry stopped fishing. Merlin wasn’t going to tell him anyway. He’d find out the details soon enough.

The turbolift came to a stop, and Harry stepped out, Merlin flanking him as they approached sickbay. For all the commotion as they entered, they ought to have been stepping into a crowded room. Instead, there were only four occupants: two Maquis crewmembers and one Starfleet lieutenant, junior grade – all three in operations gold – and James, forming a solid blue wall between the two sides, his hands held out as if to block the shouting going on around him. It wasn’t working.

“-wouldn’t have been an issue if you had even half a clue about what you were doing!” Crewman Gazelle snarled. The half-Klingon was thrashing against her crewmate’s grip, but the Bajoran held her fast, although the expression on her face indicated that if Gazelle slipped free and injured the lieutenant, it wouldn’t particularly bother her.

Few humans were entirely comfortable staring down a Klingon, much less shouting back, but Lieutenant Morton had always been outspoken. Around the doctor she shot back, “Well maybe if _you_ -“

Harry cleared his throat, and the room froze, and then settled. Roxanne’s eyes went wide, and she took a step back, her eyes flicking between James, Harry, and Merlin before settling respectfully on the floor. Crewman March loosened her hold on Gazelle, who grit her teeth and clenched her fists, gaze darting between Merlin and Roxanne as if debating whether or not pursuing the fight was still worth it. She apparently decided against, and fixed her gaze on the floor.

“Report.” Harry directed the order at Roxy, who snapped fully to attention.

“I was realigning the warp coils, sir. Routine maintenance. But _someone_ ,” she shot Gazelle a nasty look, “attempted to interfere with the process. If I hadn’t stopped her, there could have been a warp core breach-“

“That’s a lie!” Gazelle interrupted. She turned to Harry, staring defiantly at him. “With all due respect, _Captain_ , I happen to know my way around an engine room. I knew how to do it better and faster, and this p’takh was getting in my way!”

Harry glanced at Merlin, whose face remained placid. He looked back at Gazelle, then at Roxy, then finally at Crewman March. “And you?”

She hesitated, and from the corner of his eye Harry registered Merlin give a tiny nod. She returned it. “I…was not involved in the altercation. When Crewman Gazelle attacked Lieutenant Morton, I stepped in in an attempt to prevent further escalation.” She paused. “Permission to speak freely, Captain?”

“Granted.”

“It’s not Gazelle’s fault. We’re all stressed out. The Maquis, I mean. It’s not easy for us, going from our way of doing things to the Starfleet way.” She glanced at Merlin again. “I know it’s our job to follow the Lieutenant’s orders—” here she shot a surprisingly shy look at Roxy, reminding Harry to take another look at the ship’s fraternization policies, because clearly that was going to come up sooner rather than later “—but just because we’re not Starfleet doesn’t mean our ideas don’t have merit. It’s worth it at least to listen.”

Harry couldn’t help but smile, but as he opened his mouth to speak, he was surprised to find his commander beating him to the punch. “I appreciate the sentiment, Olivia, and it’s noble to attempt to defend your crewmate, but Gazelle still needs to answer for blatant insubordination. You don’t need to tell us how difficult this position is. We know. But the only way we’re going to make it home is if we all work together. And part of working together means doing things the Starfleet way.”

Harry stared at him. Merlin’s expression had changed very little, but there was a softness around his mouth, like he’d stopped clenching his jaw in order to speak, and it didn’t fade when he looked back to Harry. Harry cleared his throat. “Well put, Merlin. But Olivia, Gazelle, I don’t want either of you, or any of the Maquis, to feel like doing things the Starfleet way means we don’t want to hear your ideas. We’re a long way from home, and all of you have expertise that will no doubt be valuable to us. Just, in the future, consider presenting them appropriately. Don’t just take action without approval.” He exchanged a look with James, raising a questioning eyebrow, and the doctor gave a minute shrug of dismissal in return. Harry nodded. “All things considered, Gazelle, I’m going to overlook this infraction. Just remember that I won’t be so lenient if this becomes a recurring issue.” He looked around at the three women. “Dismissed.”

“Yes, sir.” Lieutenant Morton turned on her heel at left sickbay, and after a moment’s hesitation and with a slight scowl, Gazelle followed. Harry stepped over to James, although he didn’t miss the way that Merlin spoke quietly to Crewman March, ruffling her hair before sending her on her way.

He turned his attention back to the doctor. “No injuries?”

“A bit of bruising, but nothing a dermal regenerator couldn’t fix. Considering Klingon strength, I expect she pulled her punches.”

“Gazelle isn’t so bad,” Merlin said, joining the conversation, arms folded across his chest. “She’s a good engineer and a hard worker. I’ll keep an eye on her, make sure she falls into line.”

“Good.” Harry offered a small smile to his companions. “We handled that quite well, I believe.”

“It won’t be the last incident,” Merlin cautioned, and then relented, “but aye, I believe it went well.”

“Then I think it’s time we returned to the bridge.” Harry gave James a little nod. “I’ll see you later, Doctor.”

“You might want to tell that Vulcan husband of mine to drop by sickbay,” James called jovially after them. “With all the commotion of the last week, I feel like I’ve hardly seen him!”

Harry snorted fondly and ignored him.

The rest of the shift passed, thankfully, without much incident, and when he retired to the mess hall for dinner, he was able to snag an empty table in the corner. He sat with his back to the corner, surveying the room over his plate. Harry had never been much of a connoisseur of fine cuisine, but he could admit with a grimace that so far, the food in the Delta Quadrant couldn’t quite compare to the food back home.

“Mind if I join you?”

Harry looked up, startled, as Merlin waited for his reply. He gestured to the seat opposite him. “Of course. By all means.”

“Thanks.” Merlin slid into it, setting his plate down and picking at it with apparent disinterest. Harry followed his gaze across the room, where Crewman March had just hesitantly approached where Lieutenant Morton was sitting. There seemed to be no hard feelings from the morning’s incident, because the two women already had their heads bent together, giggling over a padd Olivia had brought with her.

“They seem to be having a good time,” Harry voiced superfluously. He looked at Merlin. “Do you know her well?”

Merlin turned back to him. “Olivia? Aye. We’ve gotten very close over the past few years. To be honest, she’s become something of a daughter to me.”

“Oh?”

Merlin gave him a sharp look. “It won’t affect how I run this ship.”

“I never suggested otherwise!” Harry didn’t say that Merlin wasn’t the one running the ship. The commander seemed to be warming a little, and Harry didn’t want him to freeze over again. He cleared his throat, returning his eyes to his plate. “She’s Bajoran, isn’t she?”

“Half. Her mother was human. From Earth, actually. Korea. They were living in a border colony when a Cardassian attack killed her and Olivia’s father.” Merlin’s fingers drummed on the table. “Olivia was five. She’s been fighting just to survive ever since.”

A pang of sympathy struck Harry, and he winced. Merlin must have seen something of it in his face, because he continued, “The Maquis aren’t terrorists, whatever Starfleet might tell you. We’re just trying to right some wrongs, to prevent more people from getting hurt.”

“I know.”

Merlin apparently didn’t know what to do with that answer, because he fell silent. Harry didn’t break it, picking at his food as he watched James stroll into the mess hall, his arm thrown around Percival’s shoulders, gesturing wildly with the other. The Vulcan appeared to be bearing it with some reluctance, but Harry smiled. He knew the couple well, and for all his stoicism, Percival was anything but reluctant in his loving the human doctor.

“Things are going to get easier, aren’t they?” Harry asked.

Merlin blinked at him. Then, slowly, he responded, “They’ll have to. Otherwise we’ll be stranded here a very long time.”

“We already might be.” Harry looked back to his commander, staring across the table as Merlin stared back. They made an odd mirror; the matching red uniforms with four pips on Harry’s collar and a bar on Merlin’s. Merlin’s bald head and Harry’s perfectly coifed locks. Merlin’s look was easier to maintain in the long run, Harry thought with amusement. He allowed himself to smile, a full and honest smile. “But we’ll be alright.” He watched Roxy and Olivia stand, their shoulders bumping as they left the mess hall together, passing where James and Percival were pressed close and murmuring to one another. He watched Eggsy, a tray of food balanced haphazardly in one hand, scan the room and then make a beeline for where Gazelle sat alone, the Betazoid grinning as he hurtled into the seat opposite the startled Klingon, who tensed and then relaxed, regarding Eggsy with a wary expression.

“Aye,” Merlin echoed, following his gaze and nodded. “We’ll be alright.”

Under the table, Harry’s leg brushed against Merlin’s, and unexpectedly, neither shied away. After all, Harry reflected, they were going to be a team. And this was going to be a very long trip.


End file.
